Beyond the Cabin

  “What’s going on?” she asked me, accusation in her tone.

  “I don’t know,” I said. She must have heard Abraham shouting, then Joan. She could get the details from the adults. If she came after me for the small lie, so be it.

  “I heard your name, Joshua.”

  “It might have been about the window,” I climbed a few stairs. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “What about the window?”

  I sighed. Fine. I turned, blinking slowly and finding that deep well again in the space of time it took me to focus on Miriam’s face. “I accidentally broke the window. I’m sorry and I will pay for it or whatever.” I paused, chewing on my next words. Why not? “Abraham lost his temper and Joan told him to quit it.”

  “You broke the window? How?”

  I noticed how she completely missed the part where Abraham had lost his temper. “My ball went through it.”

  She regarded me from the top of her sloped face, seeming like she was aiming her nose right at me. “That’s going to cost money to fix.”

  “I know.”

  “You can work it off by doing extra chores for two weeks.”

  “I’m already—“ I bit off my retort. Nothing. It doesn’t mean anything. “Fine.”

  Her eyes didn’t move from my face. She nodded. “So you’re finally learning some respect.”

  I felt the urge to look away from her, inspect the carpet on the stairs or something. No. I’ve got this. I looked her directly in the eyes. “Something like that.” I stood still, not even breathing. I couldn’t break first. I wouldn’t break first.

  Her eyes widened, the shadows on her face shifting slightly. I let myself blink, but fought to keep myself steady. I imagined I was drawing power from the well deep inside me. I held her eyes frozen. Seconds drew out long. Then I saw surprise register in the skin around her eyes first. It seemed to tighten, then go a little slack. Her head cocked a tiny bit to the side.

  She grimaced slightly and her eyes darted to somewhere above my head. “We’ll talk later.”

  I resisted the urge to grin triumphantly at her. Now she knew. She knew that she didn’t intimidate me, that she couldn’t control me anymore.

  I continued up to my room and found Ethan and David in there. I dug through my drawers and the closet, ignoring their questions and noise, trying to find something I could give Mary for her birthday.

  Nothing.

  I stood in the middle of my room. What do you give a person when you don’t have any money? Could I make her something in the next three days? I would have to keep my eyes open.

  I grabbed my book and made for the door. Then I remembered the window. I should probably clean up that mess.

  As I crossed the living room, I saw that the beggars had finished counting their take and had dispersed. I walked toward the kitchen, keeping an eye out for Abraham or any other adult. I’d rather keep away from them for now.

  Wait a second. The window I’d broken gaped wide, but there was no glass on the floor under it. Somebody had already cleaned it up. Maybe I should find some cardboard and tape it over the hole.

  As I stood there, the pouch on the table finally registered. Blue and long with a black zipper, it bulged in the middle. The bank deposit. Miriam hadn’t taken it to her office yet. Maybe she was talking to Abraham, agreeing with every word he said about how awful and disrespectful I was.

  I glanced around and listened. Nobody nearby. I darted to the table, heart clogging my throat, and unzipped the pouch. I reached in and peeled a chunk of the bills from the wad, shoving them into my pocket, then closing the pouch.

  Footsteps, from the kitchen. I scurried to the broken window, making sure the cash I’d shoved into my pocket was all the way in there. I leaned close to the window, studying the shattered edges, hoping nobody had seen me.

  “What are you doing?”

  I turned, seeing Ruth in the doorway leading to the kitchen. Please believe me. “Trying to figure out how big the cardboard for the window needs to be.”

  She blinked. I could tell she was surprised, caught off guard. “Oh.”

  I turned back to the window. “I think I can find some cardboard in the attic.”

  “Good idea.” I heard her approach the table and pick up the pouch, the coins jingling heavily. She walked away as I watched with my peripheral vision.

  Sweat trickled down my spine. Holy crap. I’d done it. Would anybody notice? If they didn’t, then when Miriam deposited the money in the bank on Friday, like usual, would she find out? I had no idea how that kind of thing worked, so I had to assume she would figure it out.

  I slipped out of the living room and tore up the stairs. In the attic, I made sure nobody else was around and pulled the bills out of my pocket. Mostly ones, but I found three tens and two twenties as well. I counted fast. Seventy-eight dollars. That had to be enough for a present for Mary. Now I needed to get to a store.

  How?

  I found some cardboard and wandered back to the stairs and started down, mulling that over. Halfway to the second floor, it hit me.

  Once Miriam found out, there would be a huge mess. Seventy-eight didn’t seem like an easy number to miss. If I’d grabbed an even hundred, maybe it could be believed that somebody had added wrong or something.

  I hurled myself down the stairs, trying to keep the noise under control. Knowing it was a lost cause, I crossed the living room, praying that I’d been wrong, that Ruth hadn’t grabbed the money pouch. The table was empty. Miriam had the pouch in her office. She would take the deposit on Friday; the bank would count it and almost for sure tell her she was seventy-eight bucks short; and she would come home, knowing somebody had taken the money. And that was all only if nobody counted it before then.

  Estelle appeared from the kitchen. “Joshua, perfect timing.”

  I felt myself turn to her, knew I was staring blankly.

  “Set the tables, please.” Estelle deposited two butter dishes on the adults’ table and disappeared back into the kitchen.

  I leaned the cardboard on the windowsill. I could find tape later. I set out the dishes and stuff automatically, my thoughts moving fast.

  Would Miriam think one of the adults had grabbed the money? Not a chance. She would know one of the kids had taken it and would probably ask the adults if they had any idea who might have had an opportunity to take the money.

  And Ruth would remember I had been in the dining room alone with the money pouch.

  I couldn’t deny it—and I knew that I wouldn’t. No way. I wouldn’t be like Luke and get other people in trouble. Which all meant one thing:

  I was screwed.

  By the time I had the table set, panic had set in and I escaped to the porch, my stomach roiling and a sour taste in my mouth. I could tell myself that any punishment they gave me didn’t matter, but nobody had stolen money before, except for Esther, and we’d never seen anyone get punished for it. They would come up with something horrendous, for sure.

  Except for Esther.

  I grabbed that thought, turning it over in my head. She had taken a thousand dollars somehow and had gotten away. I had seventy-eight bucks. I could get to Cooperton and buy a ticket that would take me as far away as possible. As close to Chicago as I could get. I had a bag full of canned food buried in the cabin.

  If I left Thursday night, I might have a chance to get a little more money too. But if not, I was way better prepared this time. I could do it. I had to do it. I hadn’t wanted to leave before my birthday, and worse, before Mary’s, but I had no choice now. I would find a way to keep in touch with Mary. Maybe she could use the computers at the library to make an email address and we could keep in touch that way.

  I kept quiet during dinner, trying to find a way to tell Mary what I had to do and explain to her about what she needed to do.

  As I sat on the porch that night, waiting for Mary to show up, I finished formulating my plan. This would work.

  Mary sat in the chair next to me. Her br
ight eyes and warm smile felt like a jagged knife turning in my soul. “Are you okay?”

  I forced a smile. “Yeah.”

  “Are you sure?” Her face grew serious.

  I swallowed. “I’m fine. Just, feeling kind of sick. Maybe those green beans at dinner.” The lie felt like total betrayal. She would hate me.

  No, she would understand. She would agree.

  I had to get out of here.

  Chapter 34

  All day Wednesday and Thursday, throughout Focus class and the rest of school, I felt like Miriam was going to pop through a doorway and grab me, yelling, “Thief!” Did she seriously not count the money? I guess it made sense, since the deposit forms were already filled out by the beggars every night.

  As classes finally ended, I lagged behind, hoping everyone’s hurry to get to the van for swimming would help me out. Mary caught my eye as she left. She offered a small smile. I knew I had been quieter than usual and wished I’d been able to enjoy these last two days with her more.

  No. I would see her again. This was going to work.

  I stalled, acting like I was straightening out my cubby, until Saul finally shambled out of the classroom. As soon as he was gone, I pulled the note out of my back pocket and read through it one more time.

  Mary,

  I’m sorry I had to leave without saying goodbye. I’d been planning on getting away as soon as I could and things happened that made me have to leave now. I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry we only became friends recently. You are the coolest person I know, and I will miss you a lot.

  It feels weird to say this, or write it I guess, but you’re my best friend. Better than Mal ever was. He made me close off to everyone, but you showed me that people are good and I can be good too.

  I really hope we can stay in touch. Will you make an email address the next time you’re at the library? I don’t have one yet, so will you make yours exactly what I wrote below so I can email you as soon as I can?

  [email protected]

  I am sorry again, and wish I could have been here for your birthday and mine so I could hear that song. Please believe me that I had to leave now. It would be bad if I didn’t.

  I will miss your smile and your hand and feeling you read next to me.

  Love,

  Joshua

  I swallowed past the tightness in my throat and refolded the note. Listening carefully and hearing nobody still in the attic, I darted to her desk and pulled out her math book. I slipped the note in the front and tucked the book back into her cubby. She should get my note on Friday, or at least soon.

  Please get it soon.

  As I grabbed my swim gear and ran to the van, I wished I’d had a chance to get more money. I would need to get far away fast. Besides that, if I had a lot more money, I could buy two different tickets and only use one, so that anybody who went looking for me wouldn’t know exactly where I’d gone.

  It didn’t matter, though. It would work this time. I would leave as soon as everyone was asleep. I would catch the first bus that left Cooperton. It would probably take me to Pittsburgh, and I felt sure it would leave early in the morning.

  I should be in Pittsburgh before anyone even knew I was gone. And I could be on my way toward Chicago soon after.

  In the water at the Y, I pictured countless different situations where I found my father in Chicago. I knew he might have moved in the last fifteen years, but I had a feeling he was still there. Maybe he would live near the old address of the Faith there. Maybe he was a successful businessman who spent a lot of time wondering where his son was. How could he not regret leaving his own son to be raised by a cult?

  Back at the house, I stuffed some clothes in my backpack before anybody else got into the room. I showered the chlorine off and gathered a few more things into my backpack, then headed downstairs.

  One more thing that I had to do, and I wouldn’t be able to do it in the dark tonight.

  Downstairs, I made my way to the kitchen, letting my gaze wander over the walls and furniture of the house. Tonight I would be gone and never see it again.

  Good.

  I grabbed a banana and ate it fast, then headed to the front door. I had maybe two hours before the beggars got back.

  “Hey.”

  Her voice sent tingles all over my skin. I watched Mary come down the stairs, then glanced around to make sure nobody else was near. “Hi.” She hadn’t found the note already, had she? Would she try to stop me?

  “You seem quiet.”

  I smiled at her, studying her face, making sure I would never forget it. “Yeah, sorry. Just had some stuff on my mind.”

  “You mean like staring down Abraham?”

  I laughed. “Something like that.” Mentally, I wanted to smack myself. It had been going so well, with Abraham and Miriam both finding out that I wasn’t scared of them. Mary liked me, a lot, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Life had actually been kind of good.

  Then I’d done the stupidest thing ever and ruined it.

  Screw what people saw. I took her hand. “It’s been a strange week.”

  Her warm hand tightened in mine. “I guess so.”

  We stayed that way for a bit, not long enough. A feeling of comfort filled me, making me want to cry and scream. I was a moron. If I’d been more patient and careful, we could have gone together.

  I gave her hand a light squeeze, then pulled mine away, feeling my heart stretch painfully. “I have to go.”

  “Where?” Disappointment filled her eyes.

  Don’t make it worse. I forced a smile. “That project in the woods.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’ll show you soon.” The lie felt like the worst betrayal ever.

  Her eyes met mine. Her smile spread wide, tearing my heart to shreds. “Okay.”

  * * *

  The shakes hit the instant I closed the front door. I needed to sit, needed to take a deep breath, but I couldn’t yet. I’ll see her again. I will. But how long would it be? How would I ever read again if she wasn’t sitting next to me? My vision blurred, but I scrubbed at my eyes.

  I forced myself to focus. I had to get to the cabin. Walking quickly down the hill toward the pond and the edge of the woods, my brain swirled with what I’d done this week and what I was going to do tonight. I broke into a run, nearly spilling into the pond as I turned at the bottom of the hill. My shadow, long and jittering in front of me, entered the forest first.

  I took the most direct route to the cabin. My chest so tight it was hard to breathe, the shakes making it harder, I stopped and put my hands on a tree, leaning forward. I sucked in a breath, tasting the leaf dust I had kicked up. I have to leave.

  But first I have to finish the cabin. When I got to the cabin, I was finally breathing normally. I walked through the rough-cut doorway, moving first to the window me and Aaron had cut. The mountain laurel, all pink stars, caught my eye. I bent and pushed the tarps aside, grabbing the tiny jar of nails I had found in the outbuildings.

  I was going to finish this cabin before I left. I had to. I grabbed a tarp, turning away from the dust cloud.

  “Hey.”

  I looked up and out the door. “Hey.”

  Aaron crossed the clearing, a heavy-looking bag in his right hand. He entered the cabin and stopped, his eyebrows raised.

  “What?”

  “What about staying off the radar?” Aaron asked, his mouth curving in a smile.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I heard all of it on Tuesday. Remember? The computer office is right there.”

  “Oh,” I laughed. “Pretty crazy huh?”

  “I guess,” Aaron said. “I don’t know if it’ll change anything.”

  “Yeah, but it was fun.”

  Aaron chuckled. “It didn’t sound like it.”

  “Yeah, but it was.” I looked around the cabin. I turned back to Aaron. “What’s that?”

  Aaron shook the bag he held; whatever was in it jingled. “I was out h
ere yesterday and saw your tarps. I saw you head down the hill, so I followed you. I’ve got some nails.”

  “Nice.” I held up my little jar. “I’ve got a few too.”

  “Want to get it done now?”

  Did he know? Had he read my mind? I felt myself tearing up again. Stop it. You have to go or you’re going to make everything worse for the kids. The adults will always suspect us, suspect you, when they find out about the money. I cleared my throat. “Definitely.” I have to leave so they know exactly who took it and why.

  I grabbed the hammer and we got to work. The first thing we had to figure out was how to get high enough to reach the top of the cabin and the rafters. Aaron solved that problem pretty fast when he found the pieces of log Mal had cut off the tree trunks used for the cabin walls.

  “Okay,” Aaron said. “Hold it here and I’ll hammer.” The first nail bent, but he pounded at it anyway. We did the second corner and it went smoother after that.

  As Aaron and I stretched the tarps and nailed them down, I glanced around the cabin again, through the rafters. I remembered that night I had spent here, hoping to get away from the Faith and its soul-crushing way of life. He thought of the duffel buried in the corner. Tonight.

  Aaron looked at his watch as I pounded the last nail in. It was ugly, but the cabin had a roof. I knew it would leak, but as I jumped from my log stool, I felt like I’d finally done something good.

  “We better get back,” Aaron said.

  “Yeah.” I stayed there, watching the cabin. Tonight would be my last night in it, my last time to set foot in it. At least it was finally finished.

  “It actually looks like a house or something,” Aaron said.

  “I know.” I grinned at him. “Sure took long enough.”

  “Mal would approve.”

  I nodded. Would Mal approve of my leaving?

  I thought he might.

  I followed Aaron back to the house as the dark grew, grateful that he had shown up to help. There would have been no way I’d have gotten it done on my own.